


Miraculous

by emmyeccentric



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyeccentric/pseuds/emmyeccentric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What exactly do time-travelers expect when they're expecting?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Miraculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this series of non-linear timebaby drabbles. :)

“Oh, I know. Alexandra!” The word burst through his lips with an unnecessary amount of pride.

River played with her fingernails, and clicked her tongue. “Oh, no, no. That’s _far_ too common. We need to find her something really quite spectacular, don’t you think? I mean, she _is_ the only one, Sweetie.”

“It must get awful _boring_ ,” he scoffed, “spending the whole of ten months just laying around.” The cotton fabric of River’s shirt muffled her husband’s voice.

One hand rested on a corner of her middle, millimeters from where The Doctor’s jaw rested on her belly. “Not when you’re in a nice hot water bed,” River sighed.

The Doctor gave a quick kiss to the top of River’s stomach, and then scurried up the giant blue bed to give a not-so-quick kiss to his wife.  She let out a soft laugh with his lips pressed to hers. He pulled away.

“What is it?’ He beamed, letting the tiniest giggle come through his words.

“That you still like to kiss me,” she rested a hand on his chest, fiddling with the sparse hair, “even though I’m as big as a house.” Her eyes grew greener when she feigned pouting lips.  

“Oh, you’re beautiful,” he whispered before peppering her neck with his mouth. “Gorgeous,” kiss, “mother of my child,” kiss, “Melody Pond. But I think it looks more like a planet.” The Doctor felt a playful yet stinging slap on shoulder as his hands wandered to her torso, palm splaying over the swell. His touch was answered by a strong thump underneath River’s skin. The Doctor jerked his eyes downward, and then to meet River’s, an obscene amount of wonder dripping from his face. “Did you feel that?!”

“She _does_ live inside of me, you know.”

“It’s so strange, that there’s a little person in there.”

“Miraculous, love.”

“Oh well, River,” he said smugly as possible, “Wonderful. Beautiful. But not _miraculous._ Just a simple biological function.” He left a lingering kiss on the underside of her jaw.

“Oh, okay then. Let’s see,” she began to count on her fingers, “there’s the ‘most Timelords are sterile’ thing, there’s the thing about my age, there’s the whole ‘last of our species’ thing, there’s the two hearts-“ She was cut off by yet another kiss.

He pulled away, eyes heavy-lidded with so much affection. “Ok, _miraculous._ ”

 


	2. Big Things

“Try harder. I know it will fit. It fit yesterday.” River had the TARDIS make the gown last week, a deep burgundy garment that set off green eyes and blonde curls perfectly. The satin shone brilliantly in candlelight; extravagance was a necessity; the Doctor had been invited personally to an inaugural ball at an extremely wealthy planet in the Kappa star system. And it _was_ an extravagant dress…it just didn’t fit.

“Sorry; it’s not moving.” The fire-haired woman tugged at the zipper one last time, but the cloth refused to make it around River’s lower stomach, which had taken on a curved appearance in recent days.

            “Oh, Mother, there’s got to be something we can do…are there any safety pins in this ship?” Amy cackled, affection reverberating through her voice.

“River, you can’t go to something like this with metal running down your back! Just have the TARDIS make you a bigger dress. I’m sure it won’t take any time at all. Here, I’ll-”

“But I don’t want a bigger dress. I want _this_ one.” Amy’s mouth opened at how daughterly River sounded. _That_ was something that hadn’t happened before.

“You’re having a baby. You’ve got to get used to bigger clothes, River.” River could see the pity in her mother’s eyes; it was strange how something so genuine could be so infuriating.

“I’m not even showing yet!” She turned to her side and gazed at her profile in the floor-length mirror before her, rubbing her hands over her frame.

“Not noticeably. But clothes don’t lie.” Amy wrapped a gangly arm around River’s shoulder, peered into the mirror, and shrugged. It wasn’t long before she noticed River’s eyelashes gloss over with tears. “Oh now, Melody. You are a renowned felon crying over a tight dress. That’s quite a change. Hormones are more powerful than you’d think.” River’s quiet tears were transformed into heavy sobs.

River looked at her mother’s reflection. “I know! I just feel like an idiot…and now my clothes won’t fit. It’s already started, and, and…I’m not ready for this life to be over yet!”

“Well, I can say I’ve never seen the side of you before, Daughter.” Amy giggled. “But don’t worry. I was the _same_ way with your brother.” She reached out to give her daughter a tissue.

“Spoilers, Amy,” River sniveled out, before bursting into whole-hearted tears once more. Amy could help but to laugh hard, nearly doubling over.

            “What’s all that racket, Pond?” A very polished Doctor in a pinstriped suit poked his head through the doorframe.

            “Oi, you, just girl talk. Now, go wait like a good son-in-law.” She waved him out with a careless gesture. River’s face was buried in Amy’s shoulder, and she lifted up slowly to face her husband, tracks of tears striping her cheeks. The Doctor promptly ran over to his wife, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her from her mother’s arms. He planted a soft kiss against her curls.

“I’ll leave you two, then,” Amy whispered, calmly exiting the dressing room.

“Now, what’s the meaning of this? Nobody cries before an adventure!” He hugged her close, swaying gently.

“I’m just a fat, old, blubbering mess, that’s all.” He laughed sympathetically.

“Oh no. I’d say you’re a naughty, sexy, infuriating mess; not a fat, blubbering one.” She pulled away to look him in his eyes, crinkled and bright from smiling.

“Not anymore.” River turned around, and yanked on the unforgiving zipper to illustrate her point.

“So you’ve put on a couple of pounds. You’re supposed to! There’s got to be room for a tiny person in there, remember? And you’re still the sexiest and most beautiful thing in the Universe. You even beat out my TARDIS, which is impressive.”

Her tears finally subsided, but her face dropped. “Are we ready? I mean we’ve lived; we’re both ancient, but a child? These are just the little things that are changing. What about the big things, Sweetie?”

The Doctor spun his wife around so they both faced the mirror. He laid a hand on her abdomen, and a kiss where her neck met her shoulder.  “Now, look at us, and imagine our boy-“

“I’m positive it’s a girl, Sweetie,” River smiled through her tears.

“What? That’s ridiculous; there’s no way you can tell-,” he was met with a pair of rolling eyes, “ _Anyway,_ imagine us with our little one, standing as a cemented family.” He began to rub circles on her stomach. “And I _know_ River Song would never turn down an adventure; just think of this as the biggest one yet.” She turned her face upwards as he leaned in for a sweet, yet lingering kiss.

“I just need clothes that fit. You do realize that I’ll be gigantic soon? Oh, God, I’ve gotten as vain as you. You’ve been a horrible influence.”

“As have you, Doctor Song. And besides,” he nearly growled, reaching his hands up to her breasts, testing their new size, “More of you always means more _excitement._ ” She let out a giggle, low and guttural.

“There will lots of time for some _excitement_ later,” she whispered, kissing the shell of his ear, “but for now, I need a dress.”

A tingle of energy buzzed about the room. As River turned, there it was. Hanging on the wardrobe, was a sleek, floor length gown of the deepest, richest emerald she had ever seen. The neckline was scooped, extra fabric elegantly gathered around it. In the light, it shimmered gold.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, is it not?” Quickly, she let go of her husband and shimmied out of her constricting attire. She was left in nothing but a lacey pair of underthings, painting the Doctor’s face with a smirking blush. She promptly stepped into the dress and pulled it over her hips. Standing in front of the oblivious Doctor, she coughed suggestively, signaling him to zip her up. He did as he was passively instructed to.

“There, dear, perfect fit.” River turned to face him, grinning. “Now, Mrs. Song,” he put a hand on her middle, “and Baby, let’s make a night of it, what do you say?”

 


	3. Lullaby

_“Everybody plays the fool sometimes, no exception to the rule…”_ a beautiful low voice floated down the corridor.  The Doctor perked up from his swing, and followed the sound.

“ _May be factual, may be cruel.”_ And surely enough, in the nursery, he found River Song spinning out a beautiful melody to an unmoving bundle in her arms. He couldn’t help but to grin. River continued to sing, without any forewarning that her husband was _right_ there.

“ _No, I ain’t lyin’…”_ The Doctor giggled at that, still in disbelief of what he was seeing. She looked up, eyes blown wide, face then loosening into a smile.  “Sweetie, you scared me!” She was faintly whispering, taking an incredible amount of precaution not to stir her slumbering daughter.

“River, that was beautiful! I didn’t know you could sing.” She shrugged, and rose to gently place the child in the rickety ancient cot beside her. Running her fingers through the small tuft of blonde curls, she bid her baby sweet dreams with a gentle kiss atop her head. She met her husband in the doorframe and gave him a quick kiss as well.

“I’ve never heard that lullaby before. What was that?” He wrapped a finger around a blonde ringlet and tugged ever so slightly.

“Oh, I don’t know either,” she laughed, “We were just going through Mother’s iPod the other day, and found it. Just some old song. It puts her to sleep like _that,”_ she clicked her fingers.

“How come you’ve never sung like that for me before?”, he pouted.

“Oh, I have,” she giggled low, sultry, and inviting, “I just wouldn’t exactly call it _singing._ And you’ll hear me sing to her again. Spoilers.” She left him be with a wink and a kiss on the cheek.

The next time he goes to pick up the Ponds, he misses his mark by _that_ much. When he entered the house, he heard an all-too-familiar lovely alto ringing in his ears.

“ _Oh, you’re just a small bump, unborn, in two months, you’re brought to life.”_ He trekked further down the hall, and peeked into the guest room. A heavily pregnant River was propped up on the headboard, looking affectionately at her midsection. “ _You might be left with my hair, but you’ll have your father’s eyes,”_ her tune soon turned into gentle hums. Still hidden from her view, the Doctor beamed brightly. River closed her eyes and leaned back, slowly descending into a peaceful rest.

The gangly man scampered back to his ship; smiling and shaking his head all the way there.

 


	4. Good Taste

            “Good grief, woman, that’s the third banana you’ve eaten in a sitting,” he squeaked incredulously. “I mean I can’t blame you. They _are_ delicious. River, slow down, or you’re going to choke, love.”

            “Oom nerur brurn hirs urngee in muh lurf,” she managed to muffle out.

            The Doctor blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

            “I _said_ that I’ve never been this hungry in my life,” she stood up as she tossed the peel in the bin, “Ooh, do you know what would be good? Calamari. Let’s order some, hmm?” After calling a divey place in Manchester, two minutes later, she had takeaway boxes in hand. River closed her eyes and inhaled the robust, salty smell. “Tuck in, sweetie.”

            They sat beneath the glass floors of the console while the Doctor worked, and made an impromptu picnic. River ate voraciously, without even looking up from her plate. The Doctor giggled.

            “Oh, it’s _definitely_ a boy,” he announced.

            She stopped chewing and glared at him playfully.  “What? A girl can’t have an appetite? We’re from the 51st century; be a little more open-minded.” Instantly, she returned back to her meal. Soy sauce began to pool at the edge of her plate. She licked her lips. “Stay down here, love, I’ll be back.” He jerked upwards as she hurried up the stairs. It was a few minutes until she returned…with a banana.

            “I just got the strangest craving for something,” she sputtered and rapidly plopped down on the ground.

            “That’s a surprise,” he scoffed.

            “Oh shut up.” She took off the peel and broke the fruit into tiny pieces, and placed one of them in the soy sauce. It sat in the puddle until the creamy yellow browned with the briny liquid. River threw the piece into her mouth, pointing at the plate, and giving her husband a thumb’s up. “Mmm, sweetie, you’ve _got_ to try this. Here taste it.” With one finger, she barreled another soy-drenched banana slice into his mouth. His face lit up.

            “Oh hell, River, that’s fantastic. Here, let me-“ he reached out to grab another slice before his hand was quickly slapped away.

            “Go get your own. There are bushels in the kitchen. The Old Girl seems to know what this baby likes. But this is mine,” she snapped, “ Now go.” River took a bite out of another morsel.

            “Oh, definitely a son. Glad to know he’s got good taste,” he shouted, echoing down the stairs.

            “ _She’ll_ probably even like fish fingers and custard,” was yelled in response, “And speaking of, bring some down here, would you? I’m _starving._ ”


	5. Clues

“Well, we never got to do the wash in prison, but I’m almost positive the clothes aren’t supposed to do this.” River’s arms were outstretched with the formerly white sheet that had taken on a weak yet pleasant lavender shade. Amy clicked her tongue.

            “Oh, no. Damn it. Sorry about that.” Amy registered the color, recalling a particularly awkward incident in which River received a lavender nightgown from her mother; later (though earlier for River) Amy’s unconventional daughter expressed her complete disgust for purple hues. “Oh, well, easily fixed. Just pour a half-pint of bleach in there, and they’ll be white again. Done.”

River eyes widened for a fraction of second as she looked at the bottle of Clorox beside her. “You know what?” She shrugged and took a good look at the cloth. “I actually like the lilac. It’s calming, isn’t it?”

“What? You _hate_ purple!” she stated, voice tense with teasing accusation.

River giggled, going along with her mother’s playfulness, but Amy could sense a barely-there nervousness in her laughter. “Colors can grow on people, Mother. And I don’t like the smell of bleach.”

“You’re lying to me.” She looked River down from the corner of her eye. “Hmm, what are you up to, River Song?” She grabbed the bleach from the top of the washing machine. River grabbed her hand mid-effort.

“I _really_ find the smell of bleach absolutely horrid. Let me just make the bed in the guest’s room,” River giggled out, “Why do you even still call it that? Your daughter and her mad husband are the only ones.” She winked and sauntered off with the cotton sheets bundled in her arms.

Cogs in the back of Amy’s mind began to slowly move.

 

Two weeks earlier, the Ponds were expecting their usual visitors.

“Ponds! Mother-in-law, it’s been far too long!” The lanky tweed-clad man reached long arms around to give Amy and Rory a tight embrace.

“It’s been two weeks, Doctor,” Amy assured him.

“Well, hello, nice to see you as well. I’m glad you’re doing fine. I’m well.” How could a centuries-old man pull off the demeanor of a six-year-old with such skill?

Rory stepped up. “Where’s River?”

“Oh, yes, your daughter. Well, she’s in my TARDIS, lying down; said her head’s been making her woozy all day. She’ll be out in a bit.”

Rory stepped forward once more, a slight urgency tight in his eyes. “Is she alright, Doctor?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” an exasperated voice traveled from the garden, “I haven’t been in the ship in a while. Since _someone_ can’t fly her properly, the ride was quite…uneven.” River walked into the circle and was met with warm hugs from her parents. Naturally, the Doctor pounced to join his family’s welcome.

“And I came bearing a gift!” He stepped back and withdrew a large wooden bottle that had somehow managed to fit in his inner coat pocket. “19th century champagne, from literal Champagne!”

“Well, let’s crack it open, shall we?” Amy bit her lip and grabbed the bottle and danced into the house.

“Feel free.” The Doctor shuddered and whispered, “Disgusting.”

Within the next few minutes, the four sat around the dining table, reminiscing over old adventures, and some that they all hadn’t experienced yet. A hollow pop echoed from the bottle, and Amy poured herself a glass of the bubbling gold liquid. She swished the wine around, and gave it an ungraceful sniff.

“It’s a drink, not a snake.” Rory’s suggestion was met by what was best described as eyes that could kill.

“I’ve seen that look before, mate,” The Doctor whispered, “Genetics.” River rolled her eyes.

Rory pointed, adding, “I’ve seen that, too.”

Amy finally took a sip, and leaned her head back, smiling. “Oh my God! This is the best wine I’ve had. Seriously.” Glasses clashed as she scrambled to pour another two. “Are you sure you don’t want some, Doctor? I guarantee it’s delicious.”

“To your human-y palettes. I’d rather not.”

Amy passed a glass to her husband, and then to her daughter, who politely refused by waving her hand. The redhead raised an eyebrow. “What? A child of mine turning down liquor? You must really be sick.”

River perked up, almost too eagerly. “Oh, I’m fine. I just need to be able to fly the TARDIS. Maybe we’ll have a calmer ride.” Amy shrugged, and resigned her questions by dropping onto the seat.

“Ok, Daughter.” She smiled at River, and then took a leisurely sip.

 

River had been visiting with the Ponds for four weeks, all four without wine; just two with purple sheets. Today, Amy and Rory had to make a trip to buy groceries; the ever-adventurous River Song tried to escape such a mundane and domestic task…by spending the afternoon on the couch.

“River, we’re home! Would you mind putting some of the groceries away?” An obnoxious but endearing Scottish accent echoed down the hall. There was no answer. But Amy jerked her head at the mewling sound coming from her living room. Naturally, she was led by the sound.

When she saw the source of the sniveling, her mouth fell wide open. There was her wild-haired, older-than-herself child curled into a tiny ball on the sofa, tissue tightly coiled in her hand. A film with sappy strings and an embracing mother and daughter made the darkness of the room glow. There was an empty carton on the nightstand.

In Amy’s face, it was easy to see all the factors come together in one amazing conclusion.

“River?”

River hurried to dry her face and make herself look, at the least, sane. “Oh, hello, Mother. I didn’t hear you two come in. I just needed some rest.”

Amy peered into the devoured carton. “And a snack apparently. Chocolate ice cream with maple syrup? I used to eat that too.”

“I just discovered it. It’s horrible, isn’t it? But us Pond girls…did Tabetha make it for us when we were young? I can’t remember.”

“No. I only ate it for a few months…the few months when I didn’t know I was pregnant with you.”

“Oh, God,” River sighed.

Amy beamed. “So it’s _true?_ You’re pregnant?” She couldn’t help but to giggle.

“Well, yes. I’ve been ninety-nine percent sure the past two months…but I can’t go to any doctor, you know, and then there’s _him_.” An image of a skinny bow-tie enthusiast came to Amy’s mind. River ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.

“Are you serious? Are you actually nervous, River?! For God’s sake, he’s a child himself! Do you not think he’d be ecstatic to know he has a new playmate?” River cackled loudly, nearly falling off the couch in her delight.

“You’re _so_ right. I guess I should tell him at some point. But I have to be properly sure.”

“Eh, we’ll get your father to give you a blood test. It’d be the best way to break it to him, honestly.” Amy helped her daughter of the couch and grabbed her by the hand.  “Just make sure not to call him Grandpa just yet. The blood test should be our only trip to hospital today.” A hopeful grin painted itself on both the women’s faces.

 


	6. Like Us

“Now, you’re sure this will work?” Rory stood back as River fiddled with various levers and screens around the TARDIS console.

            The Doctor scoffed. “21st century technology versus my TARDIS. TARDIS always wins.” Sparks flew from a monitor as River rolled her eyes.

            “That’s only if I set it up, Sweetie. “ Smugness melted off of The Doctor’s face.  River scrutinized the console before plugging in one last wire to the monitor.

            “There we go!” The Doctor clasped his hands together. “Now, Rory the Roman, you are free to ultrasound away!” His enthusiasm was met by yet _another_ spousal eye-roll.

            “You realize I’m not a tech, I’m a nurse. This may take a little while,” Rory’s voice was firm, making his assurance well known.

            “Just do it. You’ve done it before, and I want to see my granddaughter.” Rory cut his wife off with his hand, making the universal symbol for “ _Chill”._ Amy gave him a more fatal glare in return.    

            “ _Granddaughter?_ You’re wrong, Pond.”

            “Oh, Doctor, women always know.” Amy winked at her daughter.

            “Ok, River, lie down. And let me see your middle.” The curly-haired women relaxed on the leather sofa that the TARDIS had conveniently placed right next to the console. She folded up the yellow top she was wearing, exposing her protruding belly. Rory took a white plastic medical wand in hand.

            “This’ll be cold.” The skinny nurse squeezed a bottle of fluorescent blue gel on River’s stomach. She hissed at the chill. “Alrighty, here we go.” He pressed a button on the sonogram machine, and a fuzzy static appeared on the screen. Rory pushed the device into his daughter’s torso, applying just enough pressure for River to be uncomfortable, but certainly not in pain. He continued to scour the wand on River’s belly, until he found what he was looking for.

            Both River and the Doctor were mesmerized, so much so, tears were forming in both their eyes. Even Amy’s mouth was agape.

            On the monitor, a tiny creature floated around blissfully, testing its newly formed limbs. Rory was beaming. “There’s baby!” He used his finger to map out the image. “Look, there’s arms, tummy, head; that flinching bit, those are the legs.” The Doctor swallowed the lump in his throat and broke the silence.

            Whispering in complete awe, he addressed his wife. “River, can you feel all that?”

            “I told you she likes to move, Sweetie.”

            Amy perked up. “Speaking of ‘she’, let’s settle this argument, yeah?”

            Rory stared at the image for few seconds, and let out a resigned sigh. “Surprise,” he muttered not-so-enthusiastically, “It’s a girl.” He offered a warm and incredibly endearing smile to his family. “And those tiny dark spots,” he pointed, “They’re her hearts.”

The Doctor grabbed River’s hand and gave it a squeeze with all the love he could muster. “Two hearts,” he gulped, “like us, love.”

Amy eyes narrowed in a nervous anxiety. “Doctor, she has two hearts…can she regenerate?” He stayed silent for a few moments.

His eyes not leaving the image, he droned out, “Well, technically; yes. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” The Doctor smiled very weakly, but the sadness was transparent in his eyes. It occurred to Amy how touchy the subject was, and she nodded, realizing her mistake. Her daughter’s hand on her arm validated and showed appreciation for Amy’s concern.

The Doctor had stayed unbelievably silent (to the point of not seeming himself), simply because he was amazed at the little life he had helped to create. His hand drifted up to the image and he lingered there, almost if he was trying to feel his daughter’s heartbeats through the monitor. River still clutched onto his hand; pride and a bright joy radiating from her face.

“Look at the five of us,” her voice broke as she tried to speak, “We’ve finally cemented this little family. Despite the odds.”

Amy began to tear up along with the rest. Though there should have been something envious in her mind (River got to experience what she never did), she didn’t feel anything but complete happiness. “She’s beautiful, River,” Amy petted the hair out of her daughter’s forehead and laid a kiss there.

Rory stepped away from the sonogram, looping the video on the screen, and trapped the Doctor in a tight embrace, peppered with a chorus of manly giggles. “Congratulations, River, son-in-law. Amy, are you ready?” The ginger woman nodded. “Ok, it’s late,” he handed River a handkerchief to wipe the gel off of her belly, “And my wife and I are going to bed. I’ll leave you two here, with an about-two-minute loop of your daughter. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, Roranicus, it is.” The Doctor grinned.

“Goodnight, Father. And thank you, so much.” She lowered her shirt, stood up, and tightly hugged her parents, belly making the process a little difficult. Rory and his wife clasped one another’s hands and made their way up the console.

River and her husband watched the sonogram for a good fifteen minutes before facing each other. There were no words spoken, just a violent grab of a bowtie, and an unexpected yelp, which River soon silenced with her own lips. The kiss was slow and lingering. It reminded the Doctor of his first with River, all flailing, long, random limbs, as if he were a drugged spider. This time he knew exactly where to put his hands. He palmed her midsection, feeling their impossible child wiggle inside her. River chuckled, releasing him from her grasp.

“Oh, she likes you, I can tell.”

“She gets that from her mother.” He gently bopped her on the nose; she tried a more direct approach, thrusting into him and yanking his bowtie once more.

“ _River_ ,” he warned, “We don’t want to scar her before she’s born.”

River smirked and turned off the sonogram machine, as clothes began to litter the floor.

            


	7. Water Skis

“Oh my God, they’re _huge._ ” His voice took on a high pitch of disbelief.

“I told you, Sweetie,” River huffed out, “Those shoes were about to leave me paralyzed. And I can’t even see the things.” She dropped down onto a couch in the console room. At eight months along, walking, sitting, or any general movement had taken on a new level of difficulty.

“I don’t understand how feet can just… _grow_ like that,” he muttered, eyes never leaving River’s toes while his hand clandestinely reached into his coat pocket.

“Well, what part of me hasn’t ‘grown like that’ in eight months? Blame your daughter. I feel as though- what the hell are you doing?!” She kicked his hand away; a hand that was in mid-effort to sonic her feet. He just shrugged indignantly and pouted, as if he was trying to convince his wife he’d done nothing wrong.

“Oh, quit it with that face,” she playfully scolded before pulling him up to her for a kiss. She pulled away and found a hilariously smug and lovesick smirk on his face. “God, you _are_ a millennium-old child,” she hesitated and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, “And _God,_ everything hurts.”

“Here, let me fix it.”

“Doctor, I’m positive my body is past salvageable. Until she decides to grace us with her presence, I’ll have to suffer.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “I’m the Doctor; I can fix anything.” River resigned her protest. And honestly, how could anybody deny that boyish smile?

“Ok, Sweetie. Do your magic.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it _magic,_ ” he began to delicately knead at the balls of her feet, “but-“

“Oh, _bloody hell_ , that is _divine._ ” She let out a rather unexpected and intense moan.

“But it apparently induces whatever _that_ was.” He kept on with precise movement around the soles of her feet, and she laughed in relief, deep from her throat. She closed her eyes and leaned back, not able to do anything but feel.

Grinning, he began to dance nimble fingers across the bottom of her feet. Her body jerked violently, and she cackled.

“Sweetie, stop it!,” she giggled.

“Oh, ticklish, are we now, Song?” He continued to torture her with his hands; she tried with great determination to sit up and slap his shoulder, but she simply couldn’t lift up her frame. River’s laughter soon turned into whimpers.

“Doctor, STOP,” she snapped, quite loudly and quite succinctly.

“Yes, dear,” he whimpered. “Turn around, so I can get your back.” She wiggled her fingers; an adorable request for him to pull her up. He obliged, and River turned around as he positioned himself behind her. He used a kneading motion on her shoulders, and worked his way down her spine with his fists.

Her head fell into his shoulders, curly blonde hair reaching up to tickle his chin. “Thank you, honey,” she sighed. “I needed this.”

 He leaned down, eyes closed and lips puckered, expecting payment. River laughed and pushed his face away. Her husband dove right back in kissing up her neck and jaw relentlessly.

“Hey, less snogging, more backrub.” He gave her a stern salute, and moved his thumbs in small circles on her lower back.

River looked down at her stomach and placed her two hands there.  “You know, it can’t be that comfortable,” she began to move her hands across her swollen middle, “She’s bound to run out of room sometime.”

The Doctor reached his hands around her middle to weave with hers. “Well, you know, you’re part-TARDIS, maybe you’re just bigger on the inside.”

“I’m going to ignore that, Sweetie.”

He shrugged.

“I want to show you something.” River grabbed his hand and pushed it deep into her flesh. “Do you feel that?” The Doctor nodded, pushing his fingers into the firm part he felt underneath his wife’s soft skin. “That’s her leg. She kicks me right here,” she pointed to her upper torso, “right in the ribs.”

“That’s incredible,” he continued to poke her belly, and the child jerked around in response.  River hissed suddenly.

 “There she goes again, right in the ribs. I think you’re aggravating her; you’re intruding on the little space she has left.”

 He clicked his tongue. “Or she could have water-skis for feet, like her mother.”

            


	8. Studying

The Doctor’s hands weaved fluidly over the black and white board, claiming all the dark chess pieces in its wake. “Checkmate. Again,” he coldly droned out. The gangly alien chewed on his knuckles, bright hazel eyes darting across the table in front of him; but the chess game was the last thing running through his mind.

            Rory’s mouth was slightly agape, shocked at the Doctor’s eighth win of the hour.  The Doctor gnawed at his lip, and fiddled with his fingers, flinching when a feline-faced nun swung open the doors of the TARDIS med bay. The sister offered no words of assurance, just a simple and genuine smile as she grabbed a nearby pitcher of ice chips. She slid back into the med bay as quickly as she emerged.

            The Doctor shot up from his chair in the console room, and began to swoop back and forth, like tweed-clad pendulum.

            “Why won’t anyone tell me anything?! I’m 1200 years old, for God’s sake. 1200 years old, and about to be a father!” The Doctor’s rant was interrupted by a loud pained scream of one River Song, and a loud Scottish voice soothing her. “That’s it, I’m going in.” He straightened his bowtie and made his way to through the double doors. Rory was quick to dive in front of him, splaying both arms outward.

            “In defense of my daughter, and probably some very delicate extraterrestrial midwifing equipment, I suggest you don’t do that. River said _no,_ and that she would call if she needs you. Now, sit down and play some chess, Doctor.” The expectant father huffed, and indignantly lowered himself onto the seat. River’s angry, exhausted, and drawn out “ _Damn it!_ ” echoed in from the med bay. The Doctor’s mouth drooped into an alert frown.

            “She’ll be ok? Right, Roranicus?” His voice took on the tightened pitch of a child with monsters in his closet.

            “Women have healthy babies every day. And I’ve delivered _a lot_ of them. And it’s _River_. She’ll be fine.” Rory placed a firm hand on his son-in-law’s shoulder.

            “Women that aren’t _my wife_ have lots of healthy babies that aren’t _my daughter,”_ the Time Lord hissed.

            Rory retreated his hand, and threw the Doctor a mild glare. “Do you not think I know what it’s like to worry about a wife in labor?” The Doctor’s face softened, and he smiled warmly.

            “You’re right, Roman. And look what I found in Morocco!” He giggled, reached into his breast pocket, and pulled out a tiny red fez, no bigger than a teacup. Rory smiled; The Doctor stuffed the hat back into his pocket when he was quietly interrupted by one of the nurses.

            A gentle, earnest voice broke the tense air in the console room. “She’s fully dilated, gentlemen. This baby will be here very soon now.” A whoosh and a bang of the two doors marked the Sister’s exit.

            The Doctor began to pace furiously, babbling incoherently to himself before running out of the room completely. Ten minutes later, he returned with no less than twenty books cradled between his long limbs, dusty and ancient to freshly pressed. As his arms gave way, the heavy books rained to the floor with a booming thud. Rory began to scan them all.

            “’Gallifreyan Colors and Numbers’? ‘Methods for the 40th Century Parents’? Planning on some light reading, Doctor?”

            “No harm in a little natal research. Here, feel free to read up.” The Doctor cracked open the first in the pile and began to peruse until his eyes bulged.

            Hours passed, and The Doctor was still fully immersed in his studies, even though River’s pained screams and Amy’s repetitive calls of “ _Push!_ ” made concentration a little difficult.  Rory had fashioned a semi-comfortable bed from a couch, and somehow managed a peaceful slumber.

            The Doctor was halfway through a chapter on Sontaran Mammary Adaptation, when the Universe simply stopped.

            Every galaxy froze to allow for the reedy and unmistakable wail of a new life.

            Amy’s footsteps pounded as she burst through the med-bay doors, eyes beginning to spill over with joyous tears. The Doctor stood, rising on his toes with nervousness.

           “Oh, Doctor,” the redhead’s voice broke, “she’s beautiful.”

            The Doctor through two fists in the air, and leapt into the med bay. “ _I’m a Dad!_ ” rang through the entire ship.

            Amy nuzzled into her husband’s chest. “Hey, Gran,” she whispered, and Rory pressed a loving kiss to her temple. She jolted up, noticing the large heap of books on the floor.

            Rory nodded.  “Studying. Thought it could prepare him for this.”

           At that, Amy couldn’t help but to let out a cackle.

            


End file.
